


Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again

by kate_the_reader



Series: Going Home [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Family, M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's sister is in trouble. Eames needs to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as ever, to chasingriver, who helped me solve a couple of major issues in this story, and is a fantastic support.

It has been a slow couple of months, workwise. No calls from any of the team leaders they know, no emails asking Arthur for a bit of research. 

Eames is pretty content. He has his painting studio, the yard to work in. There is boxing at the gym down the hill, walks by the reservoir. It's not like they need the money. 

But Arthur is bored. There are only so many times you can run the same streets, he says, no matter how picturesque. Only so many shirts you can buy, no matter how gorgeous the boutique. Only so many books you can read, crosswords you can do. Without a project to focus on, Arthur's days stretch out too much. He takes to making ever more elaborate meals, which is all very well, Eames says, but does require even longer walks, even more strenuous runs. 

So when Skippy phones one Tuesday evening, Arthur says "Of course" before she finishes talking. 

"Eames," Arthur says when he gets off the phone, "Candy's in trouble ... No, no, it's not that bad," he adds hastily. 

"Trouble? It can't be that small, or your mom would be dealing with it on her own," says Eames, thinking of the self-sufficiency that Arthur's mother has had to use her whole adult life. 

"Well, Candy's gone off with Billy and Mom says she's not answering texts. Her boss is pretty worked up. It was supposed to be a weekend trip, but it's days now and they've just ... " He bites his lip and frowns. 

"Oh love," says Eames, "maybe they just let their phones go flat. They're having too much fun, away from the family. They're probably wrapped up in each other. You know how that gets," he says. 

Arthur smiles a bit. They know how that gets. 

"But, they're so young," he says. "They don't have much money. They drove seven hours to Memphis for some music festival. Candy should be back for work. You know she needs that crappy diner job. Oh god," he says, "I wish she'd got out of Hayes!" 

"Darling," says Eames, "What did you tell your mom, that we'd go and look for them? We can do that." 

"Can we, Eames? You'd come with me?" Arthur asks, frowning. "You don't have to, I can go on my own," he says. 

Eames, who has been lying on the sofa watching football with the sound off, gets up and crosses to Arthur's chair. He reaches for Arthur's hand, pulls him up and tugs him to his chest. 

"Oh love, how can you even think that?" he says. "Why would you do that?" he says into Arthur's neck. "Why would you ever think that?" 

"I don't know. She's my silly little sister. You're busy. It'll be really tedious, probably," Arthur says, into Eames's hair. 

Eames leans back so he can look at Arthur. "That's just silly, love, and you know it." 

Arthur laughs. “Sure, okay,” he says. “Thank you. I better book us a flight.” He sits back down and reaches for his laptop on the floor. 

Eames goes back to the sofa. On the TV, Chelsea are still playing Liverpool. He was mildly engaged before, but now he turns it off. 

He can't quite decide how he thought Arthur would react, but not how he did -- not that he’d be surprised Eames would expect to help. 

"Right," says Arthur, all business, "I got us a flight at eight tomorrow. Now I'm going to see what I can find out. There's not much to go on, Mom said they were going to camp out at the festival." 

Eames gets up to make tea. He needs to do something; he can't just sit stewing while Arthur seems to have moved on. 

He brings Arthur a mug of tea, runs his hand up the back of his neck, through his hair. 

"Can you do that in bed?" he says. "Please come to bed with me love." 

Arthur looks up, a frown between his eyes. "Eames? What's the matter? What's wrong? What'd I do?" 

"Nothing, love," says Eames. "Please come to bed though, eh?" 

Arthur looks baffled. "Okay, I'll just get my tablet," he says. 

Eames switches off the kitchen light and walks down the hall, following the trail of Arthur. He pulls back the covers on their bed, strips off his clothes and crawls in. 

Arthur comes in with his tea and his tablet. He stops by the bed. "My god, Eames," he says. 

"Just come here, love, please," says Eames. "Please." 

Arthur pulls off his jeans, hopping slightly, and tugs his shirt over his head. He drops them and gets into bed with Eames. 

Eames reaches for him and buries his face in Arthur's shoulder. He lets out a shuddery breath. 

"Arthur, please don't ever assume that I won't be there for you, whatever you need. Whatever your family needs. Please love, please. I can't bear it," he says. 

"Oh Eames," says Arthur. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't. Shh, shh." He rubs his hand down Eames's back, firmly. "Eames, look at me," he says. "It's not like that. I've always looked after myself. You know that. I can look after myself. But I don't need to. I don't need to," he says. 

Eames leans back, looks up at Arthur. He nods. "Okay," he says. "Jesus, I don't know what just happened there." 

He rubs his hand over his face, takes another shaky breath. "God," he says. "Where's the tea?" 

Arthur snorts a laugh. "Tea?" he says. "You want tea after that?" 

"I'm English," says Eames. 

Arthur leans down and kisses him, very softly. "Oh Eames," he says. 

Eames slumps against Arthur sipping the tea he made him. It has more sugar than he likes and too much milk. 

"How long have you felt like this?” asks Arthur, rubbing his hand slowly up and down Eames's arm. 

"I've always wanted to ... help you, have your back, stand by your side," says Eames. "But this ... I panicked." 

Arthur takes the mug, takes a sip. "Okay," he says. "That's okay, Eames. Okay, no more standing alone. No more." 

Eames feels wrung out. He shuffles down in the bed, resting his head on Arthur's thigh. "You carry on, love," he says. "Just stay here." 

Arthur puts the tea mug down on the nightstand, picks up his tablet. His hand continues to stroke up and down Eames's arm, across his shoulder, down his spine, on and on, until Eames is drifting right on the edge of sleep. "Thank you, darling," he sighs. Arthur's hand comes up through his hair, scratches lightly. "Mmmm," he says. "Go to sleep, Mr Eames." 

Eames can hear his smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

At the airport, Eames brings Arthur a cup of coffee, there was no time at home. Arthur looks up, brushes his thumb against Eames's wrist. 

"Okay," he says into his phone. "I'll phone when we land." 

"Mom,” he says to Eames, ending the call. "Still no news. Since she phoned an hour ago." 

Skippy has spoken to Arthur, and to Eames, several times already that morning. It's clear that this prolonged silence from Candy is really unsettling her. Eames isn't surprised. She's already had one child go off and become mysterious. 

Eames sits down, glances at Arthur's tablet, which is open on a local Memphis news site. There is a small write-up from a day or two ago about the music festival. "Anything happen there?" he asks. 

"No, nothing," says Arthur, frowning. "I've phoned the police, they don't have anything. There hasn't been a car accident." 

"Well, that's good, isn't it," says Eames. "I told you, they're in some motel, phones flat, too busy having sex to think about what's going on at home." 

Eames can't do much here. This is Arthur's territory, research. He sips his coffee, looking at Arthur, head bent over the tablet, frowning. He reaches over and touches Arthur's wrist. "We'll find her, love," he says. 

"I hope so, Eames," says Arthur. "What if we don't though?" 

Arthur had obviously been too concerned about Eames's panic to voice this last night. Eames feels a pang. His irrational fears had overwhelmed them, and Arthur had pushed aside his own worry to deal with Eames's. 

"Oh love," he says. "This is ordinary life, eh, not _our_ lives. We can do this. You're so good at this." 

Arthur glances at him, sidelong. He smiles, a bit, and takes Eames's hand. "We're so good," he says. 

"Well, wait till we're there. I'll deploy all my powers on those Southerners." 

"It worked before," says Arthur. He closes the website, picks up his coffee again. "It worked before," he says. 

On the plane, Arthur flips through the magazine and then turns to the book he has going on his tablet. Eames pulls out his sketching notebook and draws Arthur. Neck bent, a slight frown. The one that doesn't really mean anything, it's just Arthur, intent. Arthur reaches over and rests his hand on Eames's knee, rubbing gently with his thumb, he's smiling. Eames adds that to the sketch. 

As soon as the seatbelt lights are off when the plane lands, Arthur phones his mom, while Eames gets their bags down and shoulders down the aisle, making room for Arthur.

"Still no news," says Arthur as they walk towards the car hire office. 

Eames drives. Arthur is on the phone. The music festival was held on a farm outside of town, and he's trying to speak to someone who will make sense. Unfortunately, everyone still seems to be recovering. Arthur glowers, stabbing the hang-up button. 

"God, it's Wednesday afternoon!" he says. 

"We'll find something out when we get there, love," says Eames. 

Arthur has a map open on his phone and they find their way to the place easily enough. The big field where the festival was held is a sea of churned up dust and crushed grass. A few guys are wandering about, not very effectually, as far as Eames can see. 

"Right," says Arthur. "These idiots better have some answers." 

They have pictures of Candy on their phones. No one admits to having seen her. 

"Are you sure?" says Eames. "Look again." 

Finally, one kid shows a glimmer. "Oh yeah," he says. "I remember her dancing. She's pretty." 

"What else do you remember," says Eames, a hard edge in his voice. This isn't the time for charm. 

"Um," says the kid. "She was with a guy? Big guy ..." There's a stupid tone of regret in his voice. 

"They were camping over there under those trees," the kid says, pointing. 

Eames gets Arthur from where he's giving an older guy a hard time. 

"They were camping over there," he says. 

But under the trees, there's nothing to see, just a flattened patch of grass. 

"That's good, Arthur," says Eames. "They left. Nothing happened here." 

Arthur has been trying Candy's phone every 10 minutes or so, but there has been no response. "How engrossed do you have to be not to at least charge your phone," he says. 

"Well, remember that weekend," says Eames. "We didn't get out of bed for more than a few minutes and there were about 20 messages from Ariadne when we surfaced." 

Arthur laughs. "Yeah, I guess." 

"But where do we look now?" says Arthur. "Do you know how many hotels and motels there are in this city? Hundreds." 

"Yes, but we can narrow it down quite a bit, don't you think?" says Eames. "But now, I don't know about you, I really need something to eat and a cup of tea. Will there be such a thing, do you think?" 

No, there is no such thing available in Memphis. He is offered tea, but it's iced. 

"That isn't tea," he grumbles to Arthur. 

In the diner, Arthur pulls up his list of motels around Memphis. They agree it's unlikely Candy and Billy will be at a hotel. After all, she is a waitress, he's working for his father's autobody shop. They're kids with little money and no sophistication. 

Arthur tries Candy's phone again, tries Billy's. Phones his mom. 

Eames can hear Skippy's voice spilling from the phone. She sounds tired and strained. He gestures to Arthur to hand it over when he's done. 

"Hello Skippy," he says, trying to sound soothing. 

"Eames," she says, "I'm trying to stay calm, but ..." her voice hitches. 

"I know, I know," Eames says. "We are not going to give up, Skippy. We're not giving up." 

"I think you should go to the police," Skippy says. 

"Well, Arthur has spoken to the police. There are no reports. They don't start looking for adults who go missing until a few days later, they said," says Eames. 

Skippy can't know they are better equipped for this task than just a big brother and his well-built boyfriend would be. He wonders how much she suspects about their lives. 

"Okay," says Arthur when Eames hangs up the call. "I booked us a hotel. We're going there and we are going to phone every one of these motels. It'd be a bit pointless just driving around. And we'll make some tea," he says. 

Eames reaches for his hand. He supposes a diner in Memphis isn't the best place for overt displays of affection. What he does know, though, is that Arthur didn't say that to tease him, but to soothe him. To tell him they're in this together. It's so tender he's almost undone, here in this diner. 

The hotel is small, overlooking the river. This might be a stressful ad hoc rescue mission, but Arthur has chosen a charming, comfortable place. Arthur orders proper milk from room service and produces an immersion heater and a box of teabags from his bag. Eames can't help it, he presses him up against the wall and kisses him relentlessly until the water boils. 

Everything does seem a bit better with real tea steaming in their faces. Even Arthur sighs a bit. 


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm looking for a young couple, Billy Black and Candy Lake. They would have checked in on Monday. Do you have them staying there?" Eames says for the umpteenth time. And waits for the umpteenth time while the motel clerk hmms and clicks away on her keyboard, or says "Uh, wait, I'll just check ..." 

He looks over at the desk where Arthur is asking the same question, and rolls his eyes. Arthur raises an eyebrow and sighs. 

"Oh god," he mouths. 

"Um, no," says the umpteenth clerk, "They're not here." 

Another motel that can be crossed off. 

Eames gets up from the bed where he is lying on his back and crosses to Arthur sitting neatly at the desk. He runs his hand up Arthur's neck, through his hair, ruffling it, scratching gently. Arthur leans back into the touch. 

"God, Eames," says Arthur. "This is worse than the worst job Cobb ever had us do." 

It is awful, but being able to do this is a bonus. 

"Let's take a break, darling," he says. "Let me buy you dinner on the roof terrace. Let me hold your hand while the lights come on over the river." 

Arthur flexes his shoulders, cracks his spine. He frowns. "I want to just finish this," he says. "How many more places could they be?" 

"I know, love," says Eames. "How many more on your list? There're ten on mine. I'll just nip up to the restaurant, order for us and come get you, shall I?" 

"Okay," says Arthur. "I've got another twelve." 

"What d'you feel like?" Eames asks. 

"I dunno," says Arthur. He's already dialing yet another motel. 

Eames puts on his shoes and leaves the room. 

The terrace does have a lovely view over the river. He looks out while waiting for the hostess to notice him. Glances at the menu she brings him, quickly chooses. 

"I'd like that table over by the railing in 15 minutes," he says. The hostess hesitates. Eames smiles at her. "Sure," she says. "No problem." 

His phone rings as he walks back downstairs. 

"Eames!" says Arthur, "I found them!" 

"Oh love," says Eames, "Of course you did, darling." 

"Well, you did, Eames. You were right about the motel."￼ 

"Right," says Eames. He laughs. "Come celebrate with me?" he says, opening the door to the room. 

Arthur is standing at the window. The setting sun is spilling pinkish light into the room. Eames can't believe this is his life. Arthur meets him halfway across the room. "Oh Eames," he says, "Oh Eames, thank god." He leans against Eames. 

Eames holds him, runs his hands up and down his back, his arms. Kisses him softly. 

"Did you speak to them, love?" he asks. 

"The clerk went to tell them to plug in their phones. I've got to phone Mom," says Arthur. 

He dials and Eames can hear Skippy's relief. He rests his chin on Arthur's shoulder, looks out the window while Arthur talks. He leans over and says into the phone, "Hello Skippy." 

"Eames," says Skippy, "Thank you for helping Artie." 

"Of course," says Eames, "of course. You know that I'll always be there for Arthur. And for you." 

He sees Arthur bite his lip and swallow hard. 

"Yes, Mom," says Arthur. "She'll call you now, I'm sure. We're going over there." 

"Darling," says Eames when Arthur hangs up the phone. "Right now you are coming upstairs with me. You are going to eat, and look out over the river, and then we'll go and give Candy and Billy hell." 

"I guess," says Arthur. "Another hour won't hurt." 

"No, they're fine, aren't they?" says Eames. "I'm not sure you are, though, just at the moment." 

"Oh Eames," says Arthur. "I was so worried." 

"Darling, yes, you were. But it turned out okay. Let me look after you now. Please?" says Eames, taking Arthur's hand. He leads him into the bathroom so he can wash his face and comb his hair. 

Arthur fetches his jacket from the back of the desk chair. 

He smiles at Eames. "Okay, I'm ready," he says. 

On the terrace, the hostess smiles at Eames and leads them to the table by the railing. "Can I get you anything to drink?" she asks. 

Arthur glances at Eames. "Will you drive?' he asks. 

"Of course, love," says Eames. 

"Okay, I'll have a glass of white wine," says Arthur. 

Eames sits down corner-on to Arthur at the small table, so he can hold his hand in his lap. He rubs his thumb across Arthur's wrist and looks out at the lights reflected in the river. 

Arthur sighs. "Thank you, Eames," he says. 

"Oh my love," says Eames. "Thank you." 

Arthur frowns. "Thank me? What for?" 

"For letting me," says Eames. "For letting me help." 

Arthur's hand tightens around his. "Of course," he says. "I'll never doubt that ever again," he says. 

Eames nods as the server comes over with Arthur's wine. Arthur sighs and takes a sip. 

The huge burgers Eames ordered are exactly right. A bit of sauce runs down Arthur's hand. Arthur licks it off, laughing. 

"Right, let's go give those kids hell," says Eames, balling up his napkin. 

"Yes, let's, Mr Eames," says Arthur. 


	4. Chapter 4

The motel is a way out of the city. 

Eames drives, his right hand dropping to Arthur's where it rests on his knee. 

As he pulls into the lot, he sees Candy sitting on the railing outside the rooms. She jumps down and comes over to the car. 

"Oh my god, Artie," she says, as soon as Arthur opens his door. "Mom's so mad!" 

"What did you expect?" says Arthur. "Not calling her, that was really dumb!" 

"Yeah, well, my phone went dead and I couldn't find my charger and Billy said it'd be okay and I just ..." she trails off. "I'm sorry. Hello, Eames, what are you doing here?" she says. 

"What do you think?" says Eames, raising an eyebrow. 

A boy comes out of the room, rubbing his hand through his hair. 

"Okay babe?" he says. 

"No, not okay," says Arthur, sharply. "Billy? What the hell!" 

"Aw, we just wanted a bit of time alone," says Billy. "We never get any time alone." 

"Yeah, well," says Eames. "You couldn't just call and let people know?" 

"My dad would of raised the roof," says Billy. "He would of told us to come home." 

"Maybe," says Arthur. "Maybe not. We wouldn't have had to fly all the way over here though, would we?" 

"Why _did_ you come, though?" says Billy, truculently. 

"Because Candy's mom asked us to come find you, you idiot!" says Eames. 

He bites his lip and looks away across the dark parking lot. Maybe disappearing and getting lost feels more urgent to them, he thinks. These kids really don't understand. How could they? They're just children. They've never confronted the possibility that you could get so lost you couldn't find your way back. That no matter how long anyone searched they wouldn't be able to bring you home. They didn't want to disappear. Just get some time alone. Eames understands. He's not going to let Billy know that though. 

"I'm starving," Candy says suddenly. "Can we get pizza, Artie?" she asks. 

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Really Candy?" 

"Yes, really," she says. "I'm just really hungry." 

So they find a pizza place and sit there in the bright neon light while Candy and Billy eat pizza. When Billy gets up to go to the restroom, Candy says, "He's not so bad, Artie." 

Arthur shrugs. "No, I suppose not." 

"God, I hate my life!" says Candy. "I was gonna get out of Hayes, and now look. Billy was supposed to get a football scholarship to Tulane," she says. "I was gonna go too. And then he went and got injured and he's never getting into college without it and so I stayed in Hayes and that diner's so shitty and I'm so sick of stupid Jim-Bob and Ashlee's cute but oh god she cries ALL THE TIME." She stops and takes a huge breath. "Oh god," she says. 

Arthur pats her hand. "It's okay, Candy," he says. "It'll be okay." 

Billy comes back to the table. Eames gets up to go pay the check. 

They drive the back to the motel. Arthur goes into the room with Candy, to check that her phone is charged. 

Billy gets out of the car, but he lingers by Eames's window. "I'm sorry, you know," he says. "I didn't mean to cause all this trouble. I just wanted to get her by herself. I didn't know I'd be stuck in stupid Hayes!" 

"Next time, just tell someone, okay?" says Eames. 

Arthur comes out. He nods to Billy and gets back in the car. "Candy's on the phone with Mom," he says. "They're going to leave in the morning. Mom's phoned her boss. He was pretty mad, but he isn't going to fire her." 

He leans his head against the window. Eames reaches for his hand. "Let's go get some sleep, eh?" he says. 

"Mmmmm," says Arthur. "Maybe." He looks over at Eames. "Seems a pity to waste such a huge hotel bed. When have we ever?" He grins. 

"Indeed, love, when have we ever?" says Eames. 

Later, Arthur lies with his head on Eames's hip. The huge hotel bed is thoroughly disheveled. "Poor kids," says Arthur. "All they wanted was a bit of time to themselves. I can relate to that." 

Eames runs his hand through Arthur's messy hair. "Mmmm, darling, me too." 

Arthur crawls back up the bed, pulls up the covers and settles on his side. "We're so fortunate," he says. 

"We earned it," says Eames. "We could share it, love, if you want. Just a bit." 

Arthur frowns. 

"Candy could come out to LA. Stay with us. Get a taste of the wider world, eh?" says Eames. 

"You'd do that, Eames?" says Arthur. 

Eames raises an eyebrow. 

"Of course," says Arthur. "You'd do that. You would totally do that. I get it. I do," he says. 

"Yes," says Eames. "I would. I will. We will." He's lying on his side. He rubs his thumb along Arthur's jaw, rather pink from Eames's stubble. Leans over and kisses him. "What a bloody long day," he says. 

"Yeah, long day," says Arthur. "Since last night." 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is yet another (Bob Dylan) song. The story went off in quite an unexpected direction.


End file.
